


nothing like your love to get me high

by helsinkibaby



Series: Tennessee Whiskey [15]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Musicians, Community: comment_fic, F/M, Het, Rare Pair, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8674483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Caitlin and Joe have a long day in the recording studio.





	

**Author's Note:**

> http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/760318.html?thread=100046846#t100046846  
> Theme : free for all  
> Prompt: The Flash, Caitlin Snow/Joe West, Getting frisky in a recording studio.

It had been, Caitlin thought, a long day in the recording studio and it was still only lunchtime. 

Not that this was a new phenomenon, oh no. She'd spent time in recording studios before, was familiar with the stop start nature of the business, the constant repetition, the boredom that could creep up while you were waiting for your time in front of the microphone. 

None of those things were bothering her today. 

Because today it was her and Joe in the recording studio, Cisco and the sound engineers in the control room. Which was unusual because usually, she recorded her vocals either alone or with Iris, the guys in the booth working their magic later to mix their vocals with Joe's. Even on a song like _Tennessee Whiskey_ where Iris didn't feature and her voice mingling with Joe's sound amazing, Caitlin has recorded alone, even if she had been acutely conscious of Joe's eyes on her through the plexiglass window. 

But today Cisco had decided to try something new. An experiment, he'd called it, steepling his fingers with a grin that made him look like some sort of mad scientist. "You and Joe, singing into the same mic at the same time, like you do on stage every night... let's see if the magic is there in the studio too." 

Which initially, Caitlin hadn't minded. 

Then she'd been told that they were going to try this experiment with a new song, the one that Joe had written recently and shown to her on a park bench during one of their coffee walks. 

The one that he'd written about her. 

It had almost made her cry the day that she'd first seen it. Any time they'd practised it together, it had had a similar effect. 

Today the effect was different. 

Because standing in a recording studio, singing into the same microphone as Joe, looking into his eyes as he sang those words? Being close enough to feel his breath on her face, the warmth of his body, the touch of his hand against hers? Hearing his voice singing about how he'd fallen for her the first day they'd met when he heard her voice? Doing that over and over again for three hours? 

It was killing her. 

She was glad she'd worn a long sleeved blouse because her skin was peppered with goose flesh. Low in her stomach was a pool of arousal that flared higher with every glance from Joe, every quirk of his lips, every time his eyes ran up and down her body. She ached for him to touch her properly, the hunger real and powerful and it was a relief when Cisco stood up in the booth, said they should call it quits and come back in an hour. 

"How about we make it two, Cisco?" 

Joe was the boss, the name on the marquee, so no one was going to argue with him. 

And if anyone noticed that even though he was speaking to Cisco, he was looking at Caitlin, they didn't mention that either. 

The booth cleared out quickly and neither Joe nor Caitlin moved, waiting until they were sure they were alone, sure that the microphones were closed off. He waited a full minute - Caitlin counted the seconds by the pounding of her heart - before he took a step towards her. "I thought they'd never go." 

His voice was low, husky. 

She swallowed hard, nodded her agreement because she didn't trust herself to speak. 

Then he reached out, curved one hand over her hip. 

It was the spark to a flame because the next thing she knew, she was pressed against him, her arms winding around his neck as his second hand joined the first on her hips. He pulled her close, bringing their lower bodies into contact and she gasped into the kiss at the evidence that the last three hours had been having a similar effect on him as they had on her. 

"Is this ok?" He murmured the question against her lips, hands sliding down to the hem of her skirt and pushing up and under, eliciting another gasp from her at his fingers trailing up the skin inside her thighs, a moan as he reached the top and found proof of her own desire. His lips curled into a smile against hers and as his fingers moved, she couldn't wait any more. 

Breaking the kiss, her shaking fingers found his belt, fumbled to undo it. "Please, Joe..." Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, reedy and desperate and he nodded as he moved his hands back to her hips - she whined, she couldn't help it - and began moving them until her back hit the wall of the studio. 

From there, there was only one way things were going to end. 

It didn't last long - not that she expected it to, not that she even wanted it to, not after three hours of build up. She was more than ready to find release, him too, and he smiled, a little breathless as he pulled away from her. "I'm glad this room is soundproof," he quipped and if her cheeks hadn't already been flushed from their actions, she might have blushed. 

"I blame you if I can't sing this afternoon." She said it as archly as she could - which, under the circumstances, was not very - and he laughed. 

"How about I kiss you better?" he asked, bringing his lips to her neck and proceeding to do just that. 

It didn't actually help her throat, just started her back up a road she'd not so long since travelled down. 

Which was fine with her. 

And when he dropped to his knees in front of her, she figured it was fine with him too.


End file.
